The Clave Theatre Drama
by A Kugelschreiber
Summary: Clary and Simon are scholarship students at the Institute- a prestigious school- and are at the bottom of the food chain. But when Isabelle Lightwood, idol of the school, casts Clary as Juliet in the school's play, what drama will ensue?
1. Chapter 1

**Attention: This was not written by me. It was written by TheFeatherQuill who had previously given her account to me a while ago due to problems she was having. However, as part of her request, I have re-uploaded this for her. All credit goes to her not me. If you have read this story, please know that she may be finishing it. **

**Disclaimer: TMI belongs to Cassie alone. **

For all she knew, today was another regular day at the Institute High School of Excellence; or how Clary and everyone else liked to call it: the Institute. The Institute was a "prestigious" private school to which only the best of the state attended. Clary and her best friend Simon had both received special scholarships to come to this school. But as far as she could see, it wasn't any different from a normal high school. Loud, unruly teenagers roaming the hallways mean and boring teachers, etc. And she and Simon were still at the bottom of the social rank. Not that it really mattered. She was fine with just having Simon around. She couldn't wish for anymore.

After the morning bell had rung, she walked along the hallway trying to find her locker, which happened to be located in the main hallway of the building. Simon was already there, tidying the contents of his locker, which was right next to hers. His brown hair hung in front of his eyes, which had a tired look to them, telling Clary he had stayed up all night playing Dungeons and Dragons.

"Hey Simon," she said, opening her locker.

"Oh hey. What up?" Simon replied as he shut his locker and leaned against it.

"Eh, not much. Stayed up a little late last night finishing off some Trig. I swear, Professor Maryse is gonna kill us with all this work. I mean, 30 pages out of the workbook? C'mon!" Clary exclaimed as she placed her textbooks in her mini shelves.

"We had Trig homework? Dammit. I forgot. I had other stuff on my mind."

Clary smirked. "I'm assuming that beating the level on Dungeons and Dragons was the "other stuff"."

"That level was really hard!"

Before Clary could reply, the second bell rang. She rolled her eyes. This didn't just mean it was time to go to class. She watched as the students of the Institute lined up along the Main Hallway and faced the entrance of the school.

_And here comes to Royal Family, _thought Clary as she rolled her eyes at the gathering. It was like this every morning. Everyday, at precisely 7:30 when the second bell rang, the three most popular students would enter the school. They weren't just high in social ranking. They were also rich, good looking, and pretty much regarded as gods in the school.

The door opened and everyone came to a hush as the sound of heels clicking on the ground was heard, and in came Isabelle Lightwood. Dressed in a blue jeans miniskirt, and a long-sleeved, v neck white top, Isabelle Lightwood was probably the most gorgeous girl Clary had ever seen. Her long, sleek black hair fell gracefully down to her waist, and her blue eyes radiated importance. She was the school's star field hockey player, as well as the head of the Drama department. Her beauty had guys begging on their knees for her while it left girls hiding their face in shame. She always did what she wanted and had little regard for the school rules. Not that anyone tried to stop her. No one got in the way of Isabelle Lightwood.

Applause rang throughout the hallway as guys immediately stopped what they were doing, and girls rushing up to her, asking her for the fashion tip of the day.

Clary eyed her as she walked by. She had to admit, she was jealous of the pretty girl's beauty. Then her eyes drifted to Simon, who was staring in awe. Clary smiled.

"Hey Simon, you should probably stop staring. It's a little creepy."

Simon, as if he had snapped out of a daze, hurriedly replied, "I was not staring. I… just wasn't blinking."

Clary laughed. "Simon, your crush on her is so obvious, there's no point in hiding it."

"I do not-"

He was cut off when another round of applause welcomed the second student. Alec Lightwood was a senior at the school and Isabelle's older brother. He was tall, around 6 feet, had soft, jet black hair, and striking blue eyes, which contrasted his pale skin. He was the school's best Lacrosse player, leading the team to Nationals four years in a row. He was an honor roll student and destined to be the school's valedictorian of his graduating class. Though he looked strikingly similar to Isabelle, he was more soft spoken, and had innocent look to him that made the girls in the school sigh when he smiled. Clary could see why everyone admired him. He was the perfect student.

And suddenly, the chatter in the hall dwindled into a hush as the third and final god of the school entered. He was unlike the other two. Not like Isabelle, with her dancing grace and splendor. Not like Alec, with his humble beauty. He was like proud lion, ready to pounce. His skin was tanner than the other two, and his shoulders slightly broader than Alec's. His tawny hair shone like an angel's halo, and he had golden eyes that seemed to melt anyone who looked into them. And with a dip in his walk, Jace Herondale entered the school: Captain of the Varsity football team, the nightmare of every teacher, and every girl's heartthrob, especially Clary's.

"Clary."

She didn't respond. Simon tried again, with more emphasis,

"Clary!"

"Huh?" Clary gasped, as if startled out of a trance. She saw Simon's face and a blush crept up her face. Simon smirked,

"Who's staring now?"

"Shut up."

The fourth period bell rang and Clary sprinted out of the classroom, thankful to be relieved from the horrors of English. Romeo and Juliet, yuck. It was the worst book in the world in Clary's opinion. Two people who met, fell in love, married and died in two days. Utterly stupid.

She hurried to her locker, finding Simon already at his.

"Oh how I hate English," she murmured, opening her locker.

"Tell me about it," Simon answered. Clary noticed he seemed a little tense, though she couldn't make out why.

"Is something wrong?" she inquired, frustrated at not being able to diagnose the source of her friend's tension.

Simon sucked in his breath. "Nothing. Just… look to your left."

Clary turned her head to the right, and turned back to Simon puzzled.

"I don't see anything."

"Your other left, idiot," Simon smirked.

Clary looked to the left, and at first saw nothing. But then she knew what Simon was talking about. Across the hall, Isabelle Lightwood was talking one of the kids from Theater. But her dark eyes were focused intensely on Clary.

Clary gulped and turned away. "Why is she staring at me?"

"I dunno," Simon replied. " But she's been following us- well you actually- since the end of first period. I don't know why, but its creepy. "

Clary glanced again, and this time saw Isabelle striding over to her and Simon.

"Simon, she's coming over here!"

Simon panicked. "What! Holy crap-"

"Hey," sang a voice.

Clary and Simon slowly turned to face Isabelle Lightwood. Clary had never really noticed how tall she was; 5'9 she guessed. She smelled like captivating vanilla, and cherry blossoms.

She smiled. "I'm Isabelle, but you probably already knew that." She paused, waiting for any reaction. When she didn't get any, she simply smirked and went on.

"Anyway, the Theatre department- or rather, I- am putting on a production of Romeo and Juliet for the school, and… I couldn't help but noticing…" her black eyes focusing on Clary, "how much you resemble Juliet."

Clary raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Who, me? How?"

Isabelle shrugged, " I dunno, you just do. So I was wondering, how would you like to play Juliet in the play?"

"Are you serious?" Simon exclaimed, still in awe of standing in the presence of Isabelle Lightwood.

"Very," she said, without giving him a second glance. "I would have played the part myself, but I can't manage the play, direct it, and be in it. Plus, you have a kind of childish and innocent image. You're perfect!"

Clary chewed on her lip, a habit she seemed to have when she was indecisive.

" I don't know…."

"You don't have to tell me now. I'll give you the rest of the day. If you're interested," she reached in her purse and pulled out a piece of paper, "just come to the Clave Theatre this evening at 4:30. And this is my number. And please, "she shot daggers at Simon, "don't give this out to anyone at your liberty. It's an awful lot of pain. See you!"

And she bounced off, her long hair flowing like an elegant waterfall, and the fading noise of stiletto boots let them know she was gone.

Simon raised his eyebrows. "So…. What next?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Attention: This was not written by me. It was written by TheFeatherQuill who had previously given her account to me a while ago due to problems she was having. However, as part of her request, I have re-uploaded this for her. All credit goes to her not me. If you have read this story, please know that she may be finishing it.**

**Disclaimer: TMI belongs to Cassie alone.**

**Act 1 Scene 2**

The Clave Theatre was an attachment to the Institute's 300 acre property. It was designed to model the the Globe Theatre in London. Built of marble, it gave a majestic look to the already exquisite looking school. And being inside it was even more intimidating for Clary. The actual auditorium was huge, built to seat the whole school of 2500 people. The seats were posh with red velvet cushions and golden painted rims. The stage itself was massive, circular and at least 60 feet in diameter. Extending from it was a catwalk, which was often used for the Theatre department's production of fashion shows. People roamed busily on the stage, to and fro, carrying out endless chores that went along with managing the stage. In the middle of the stage, was Isabelle, looking radiant under the lights, and two boys with her. Clary gasped when she saw who they were: Alec and Jace.

_What are they doing here? _ She thought as she walked down to the stage. Her heart had started to pound and she was sure everyone on the stage could hear it.

"Are you ok?" Simon asked, putting his hand on her shoulder and giving her a worried look.

Clary had asked Simon to come along. And she was glad she did. The sight of the three most adored students on campus was enough to intimidate her. And she nearly ran when she saw Jace Herondale staring at her from the stage.

"You sure you want to do this?" asked Simon for the thousandth time. But Clary had made up her mind.

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, it seems… fun. What's there to lose?" But it seemed that she was comforting herself more than Simon.

They made their way across the auditorium, and Clary saw that now, all three of them were staring at her. Alec frowned and whispered something to Isabelle. She simply waived it off and came to receive Clary and Simon. She extended her hand, smiling.

"I knew you'd come!"

Clary smiled back, took her hand, and hoisted herself onto the stage. Simon let his hand reach up next, but Isabelle pulled away, seeming as if she never noticed him. Shrugging, he jumped onto the stage and followed them.

"The offer was too tempting," she replied.

"I'm glad," said Isabelle. "We really needed you."

The stopped in front of the two gorgeous boys and Clary heard Simon suck in his breath. _Boys,_ Clary thought, _Always trying to feel superior to the other guys. _

Clary heard Isabelle whisper in her ear, "What's your name again?"

Her jaw almost dropped when she realized that Isabelle had called her here without asking what her name was. Suddenly she felt a little unwelcome.

"Clary," she whispered back.

"Clary, this is Alec, my dork of a brother. He'll be playing your other half, Romeo. And this is Jace, my idiot of a friend, who will be playing the part of the jester, Mercutio," Isabelle said grinning.

"C'mon now, Izzy, that's not a proper introduction, " Jace spoke, his golden eyes scanning Clary's green ones. "Here's how you do it."

He startled Clary by reaching for her hand and bringing it to his lips.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle," he said, mocking a perfect French accent, "My name is Jace Herondale."

It took all of Clary's self- control to stifle a giggle. Behind her, she heard Simon make a weird noise. And then, it seemed for the first time, that the trio noticed Simon.

Alec spoke first, his blue eyes betraying no emotion.

"Who's he?" And all eyes turned to Simon, who immediately turned wide-eyed and stepped back after realizing they were staring at him.

"Um, hey! I'm Simon, Clary's friend," he stammered.

Alec frowned. "Izzy, I don't recall you saying you recruited two people."

Isabelle frowned identical to her brother, "Neither did I. You're that one kid who was with her today aren't you? Why are _you_ here?"

Simon immediately went into defense mode,

"Hey, don't get the wrong idea, I'm not a stalker. Clary asked me to come so I came."

"Somebody call pest- control," Jace murmured.

"Excuse me?" Clary shot back, forgetting any of the butterflies she had felt earlier. "I asked him to come, so he came. Got a problem with it?"

Jace let a low whistle through his teeth. "Man, she has got you _whipped_. "

Before Clary could retaliate, Simon caught a hold of her shoulders.

"Let it go, Clary. This is a big opportunity so don't blow it. I don't they want me here, so I guess I'll be going.

With that, Simon turned and proceeded to walk off the stage. Alec rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, letting Clary know this wasn't where he wanted to be. Jace simply smirked with indifference and he set his burning, amber eyes on Clary. She sucked in her breath and chewed on her lip, debating on whether to leave this gorgeous boys gaze and chase after her friend, or stay there like Simon told her to.

But she decided for Isabelle was the one who stepped up.

"Hey!" she called. "Wait!"

Simon quickly spun around, surprised.

Isabelle ran up to Simon, dark eyes scanning up and down his body, as if reading right through him. Slowly, she walked in a circle around him, examining every inch of him and nodding to herself.

"Um what-"

He never got to ask his question for she burst out,

"Perfect! Yes, I think it can work! Clary I am soooo glad you brought him here!"

Everyone stared at Isabelle as if she had 7 heads, as she pranced around happily like she had found a cure for cancer.

"Now you've lost me Izzy. Well, technically, you never actually had me but… what the hell are you talking about?" Alec asked, exasperated.

Isabelle grinned and theatrically pointed at Simon.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Paris!"

"Who the hell is Paris?" asked Jace.

"He's a suitor for Juliet in the play," replied Clary. "How do you not know who he is? I mean, you're in the play."

"Izzy dragged us into it," Alec answered, "since apparently, the Theatre department is having some issues."

Isabelle's eyes narrowed as she shot daggers at her brother and his friend. "Issues… that aren't important at the moment. What is important though is that auditions will start any minute."

"Auditions?" asked Simon, still dazed from what had just happened. "And I'm not some sort of pet rat that you can have come and go at your own will."

Jace laughed, "Ooh I am so calling you that. Rat-boy."

Isabelle stood with her hands on her hips, ignoring Jace. "Well, we're going to have to cast the rest of the characters, obviously," she said. "Now, boys," she pointed to Alec and Jace, "set the judges table. I'll be right back."

Alec and Jace both shrugged as they went back stage to retrieve a table. Simon walked over next to Clary and whispered,

"And she calls me whipped."

Clary smiled and looked up at him and grinned. "So, you just got cast as Paris. Any thoughts?"

Simon sighed, "I guess this is the part where I'm supposed to say that I'm really honored and all that crap, but… I mean why Paris? He's the loser who Juliet never saw as a lover and therefore doesn't get the girl. To tell you the truth, my ideal part is Romeo."

Clary laughed, "Nah, I'm glad you're Paris. It would have been awkward with you as Romeo."

"How so?"

"Well, because then, I would have to act as if I was in love with my best friend. "

Clary never got to see the expression that bloomed across Simon's face for that was when Isabelle called for the front stage lights to turn on. Alec and Jace had placed a small table and three chairs in the pit in front of the stage. The boys had already taken their seats and Isabelle walked up to her chair, megaphone in hand. She turned back to Clary and Simon,

"You guys are welcome to watch as the audience. I think we're holding auditions for Tybalt today."

Clary and Simon shrugged and jumped off the stage, taking their place in the comfortable red chairs of the auditorium. Clary sighed and recollected her day. In just 6 hours, she had gone from unnoticeable to getting a kiss on her hand from Jace Herondale. She and Simon had just been cast in a schoolwide theatre production of Romeo and Juliet. Clary smiled. They had just gone from zero to almost hero. Her head spun as she absorbed all the facts. It was going to be a long day. In front of them, Isabelle raised her megaphone to her lips,

"Will the first person please come out on stage?"

Footsteps resounded throughout the building as a boy's silhouette appeared in the light. His figure was much like Jace's: tall, broad shouldered, and confident. His white blond hair reflected the stage lights like glaciers would the sun. He had pale skin, a sharp nose, and black eyes as fierce as a hawk's. His deadly beauty reminded Clary of a dark angel. And for some reason, a blanket of dread covered her as she took this boy in, a feeling she couldn't place.

"Name?" Isabelle asked.

"Hi, I'm Sebastian. Sebastian Verlac."


	3. Chapter 3

**Attention: This was not written by me. It was written by TheFeatherQuill who had previously given her account to me a while ago due to problems she was having. However, as part of her request, I have re-uploaded this for her. All credit goes to her not me. If you have read this story, please know that she may be finishing it.**

**Disclaimer: TMI belongs to Cassie alone.**

**Act 1 Scene 3**

Magnus Bane was never one for attending school. He was just too cool for it. So it was surprising when he found himself sitting in one of the plush chairs in the main office of the Institute High School of Excellence. He sighed and slumped in his chair, but immediately regained his posture, for he believed that a good spine was the key to success.

His eyes wandered to the secretary sitting behind a white desk, furiously typing away on her computer. Magnus guessed she was most likely entering his data into the school's system. He was new to this school. Today was his first day, and he already didn't like it. He thought the walls were a little drab, lacking anything appealing to the eye. The hallways, in his opinion, made him feel as if he were walking through a prison. Maybe if they added tint of light blue to the walls, maybe a little glitter around window sills which would capture the sunlight well. And maybe a touch of-

"Mr. Bane," called a sharp voice from behind the desk, interrupting Magnus's thoughts. Sighing theatrically, he stood up, slinging his purple backpack over his shoulder. He walked over to the desk and looked down at the plump woman below. She was your stereotypical secretary: short blond hair curled around her ears and blue, cheetah print framed glasses hung from the tip of her nose. She wore earrings and blue shirt to match as well, which Magnus thought was utterly disgusting and made a mental note to tell her one day.

"Mr. Bane, here is your schedule," she said in a monotone voice without bothering to look up at him. "It is currently in the middle of first period so you'll be in Calculus right now. I'm assuming you can find where the room is?"

It was a stupid question. The Institute was big, yes. But it was numbered the same as all schools: 100s on the first floor, 300s on the third floor, and so on.

"Er, yeah," Magnus answered. "Is there anything else?"

"No," the pudgy lady replied.

Magnus turned to leave, not feeling like saying thank you to someone who didn't even look at him. But before he could open the door, the secretary spoke,

"Mr. Bane, as you know, the Institute has no strict uniform. However," she paused, finally looking at him through her bifocals, "I will have you know that it will be appreciated that you take note to keep within the boundaries. The Institute is a prestigious school Mr. Bane, and it shall not tolerate any disgrace."

Magnus smirked and walked out of the office. He knew exactly what she was talking about. He was dressed unlike anyone ever dared to. Striding down the hallway in hot pink skinny jeans, a bright purple v-neck shirt decorated with sparkles, which was short enough to show a glittery belt with the letters MB on it. His shoes were flamboyant as well for they were turquoise converses decorated with glitter paint. Magnus was literally a walking disco ball. And there was no way he was changing his style.

Having found his classroom, Magnus grimaced with the thought of Calculus. He couldn't wait until 5th period.

**TL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

It was a miracle that Magnus was able to survive 4 hours of Calculus, Chemistry, World History and Latin. Only one thing was keeping him alive, and that was his excitement for 5th period: Fashion Designing. The only reason he had let his parents sign him up for this school was because of its excellent Arts and Fashion program. Often these students indulged in Interior Design, Photo Shoots and Costume Designing for the Theatre Department. And if there was one thing Magnus was good at, it was fashion.

There was also another reason he had chosen this school above all others. A certain childhood acquaintance of his was the head of the Arts and Fashion program. And he was dying to meet her. It was time to exact his revenge.

He made his way to the Art annex, collecting stares of wonder, awe, and "omigod who is that _gay_ kid?" looks from people walking by him. Not that he cared. It amused Magnus. He enjoyed being different. As soon as he arrived in the hallway he was supposed to be in, Magnus thought he was in heaven. The bland walls suddenly became enveloped in swirls of color. Dazzling works of art and beauty had been weaved around all the classroom doors. This was his exact image of what he had wanted the school to be like. Magnus was home. Now it was time to find her. He glanced down at his schedule and saw that he was in the Costume Design class for the semester. _This should be interesting_ he thought and entered the classroom.

As soon as he walked in, Magnus felt as if we had walked into a beehive. Swarms of students walked around the classroom, collaborating with each other. Others sat at their desks working away at sewing machines, trying to produce outfits of the utmost perfection. Magnus realized, as he saw all this, that it was all student run. This wasn't a regular student- teacher classroom. It was an interactive classroom made to accelerate student's imagination. Having noticed this, he scanned the room for any student who might be in charge. It didn't take him long to find him.

At the front of the room stood a Hispanic boy, probably around 5'7. He had curly black hair and caramel colored skin, much like Magnus's. He was giving orders to the other students and consulting with others about their work. Magnus made his way to the boy, who was talking to another student at the moment.

"Excuse me."

The boy held up a long, slender finger. "One moment," he spoke in a Spanish accent.

Magnus stood impatiently, examining his fingernails. He had already attracted many stares from people in the classroom. Some even looked intimidated. He couldn't blame them. They were staring at a 6 foot tall disco ball who had jet black hair spiked with glitter, and who had yellow-green eyes; which from a distance seemed like cat-eyes.

"Ok, what do you want?"

Magnus realized that he now had the Hispanic boy's attention.

"Uh, hi. I'm Magnus," he said.

The Hispanic kid didn't look surprised. "Oh, you're the new kid. I'm Raphael. Now then, I guess I'm going to have to find an assignment for you to do, but so far everything is occupied. You can ask any student if they need help or something. Other than that, just sit tight while I find something for you to do."

"Actually," Magnus replied, "I was hoping if I could talk to the head of the department?"

Raphael looked puzzled. "Who? Mrs. Vandertramp? That witch? Why would you want to see her?"

Magnus smirked. So his acquaintance wasn't the _official _head of the department.

"Um no, not her. The other one."

Raphael still looked confused, but then he slowly turned wide-eyed.

"Oh! You meant _her." _Raphael muttered something under his breath with distaste in his eyes and Magnus could tell that clearly, Raphael didn't like _her._

"She doesn't come to school everyday, only Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays."

"Today is Tuesday," Magnus retorted.

"She also requires that you take an appointment in advance to meet her. She claims that she is "busy"," Raphael replied using air quotes.

Magnus smiled. _Wow, she thinks she's a goddess already._

"Well, if you tell her my name, I'm sure she'll make an exception."

Raphael raised a fine eyebrow. "What makes you think that?"

Magnus grinned, revealing two rows of perfect white teeth. "Trust me."

The smaller boy shrugged and held up a slender finger. Then he walked out of the classroom. Magnus smirked as he thought of what the Hispanic boy had told him and his excitement grew even more. This was going to be fun.

Raphael walked back into the room, a surprised look on his face.

"She said she would meet you."

Magnus flashed him another grin. "I told you."

Raphael looked up at him in amazement and led him out of the classroom. He took him down the hallway and to the right where Magnus saw a black door at the end of the hallway. Gold paint covered the rim and graceful designs swarmed the wall around it. Magnus knew this was where she was.

"She's inside. But be careful. Others are dazzled by her. But in my opinion, she's a bitch."

Magnus smiled, "Glad to know I'm not the only one who thinks that."

He turned the knob to the door and walked in. The room was an oval shape, with a huge window opposite to him. In front of it was a desk, made of cherry wood he guessed. And sitting on a chair behind it, facing the window, was a girl with long, silvery blond hair.

"Magnus," sang the girl as she turned to face him.

Magnus smiled, not trying to hide the bitterness in it.

"Hello, Camille."

**Hope you liked that! And please review. I'd love to see how people respond to TheFeatherQuill's story. **


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